Gasoline, Sparks, and Chopsticks
by LiahFaile
Summary: She had the spark of insanity. He had a spare can of gasoline. When they meet, what fires can they set?
1. The Duo is Born

He noticed her because she was smiling.

Fires were raging into the night sky, gasoline saturated the air, and the sizzling of burned flesh filled in the gaps between loud human screams. She stood so close to the inferno that the sparks danced out into the Ikebukuro night seemed to dance into her very hands, catching on her clothes, her hat, her hair. They illuminated her wide grin, as she threw on gasoline to the pyre, spilling some at her feet.

It was a typical night for a Blue Square raid, dark as hell outside, warm with the summer fervor and freedom. Walker had joined because he had nothing else to do, and had meant to keep to himself. They had wanted a torture specialist, after all, and he was one of the best in that field. He sat still on the roof of a smooth white van, knees drawn up to his chin, eyes slit with his usual expressionless look. How boring.

"You're up," she said to him, tossing up a lighter. Walker leaned forward to catch it, and then jumped off of the van.

"Wish they would be a little more creative," he remarked, straightening up and not looking at her. "They need an ice-pick in the middle of their forehead and their insides stuffed with sweets, and maybe then these criminals would get the message."

He expected her to recoil, just as so many others had done, from his outright brutality. But Walker didn't see it that way. It was just a part of him, this fascination. He had long given up wondering if there was something wrong with him, something that made others treat him with wariness.

He did not expect her to squeal, throw her arms up and yell "That's the Banquet of the Golden Witch! I loved Beatrice~!"

Her hands descended on his shirt, and she shook him frantically, grinning like an idiot. "Hey, hey, that _is_ where your idea came from, right? Why you bastard, here everyone was thinking you were such a weird creep when you're actually an otaku like me!"

Walker, caught up in her enthusiasm, seized her hands too. "You've read the Banquet of the Golden Witch?"

"Who hasn't?" She rejoined merrily.

Inside him, Walker felt a little shift in the silent guard he usually faced others with. The hooligans drunk by the fire no longer seemed significant. Their shadows that danced on the buildings and streets no longer showed a grim reality, but hid a world of plots and conspiracies. Here was someone else who saw the same world as him. He leaned forward, intent on getting her name. "You are?"

"Erika, otaku and torture specialist. And you?" Her smile was just as wide as before, and searching her face, he found a spark of insanity so similar to his own. A glance, and he knew he was no longer alone.

"My name is Walker, otaku and torture specialist." Walker grinned for the first time that day, suddenly feeling as if he was now free to do anything he wanted. All a spark needed was some gasoline, and an inferno of destruction would result.

And the duo was born.

* * *

><p>Lalalalala~!<p>

The Banquet of the Golden Witch is, in fact, a manga. It's pretty awesome. Nice and creepy and bloody. People die :D

I'm an otaku like Erika and Walker, although I'm much less of a torture specialist. My sister is the one who's obsessed with scissors, even though she'd never admit. It's pretty obvious though, because she has a pair that she carries around at school ALL THE TIME and threatens whoever disobeys her with them...cough.

Moving on.

Review~! Because I love this pairing. Don't you? I'm thinking of continuing this story and making it into a series of drabbles instead, you know. Do you think it'd be interesting if I did that? Would you like an adventure spin? Humor spin? Romance spin? Or keep them frustratingly platonic and tease you maddeningly about their relationship? I'm letting you chose the genre for my story!

*thinks about it

*shudders

Anyway, review! And favorite! And carry on this pairing in your hearts FOREVAAHHH!

-LiahFaile


	2. Torture Specialists

Waaaaaaw~

*jello wave of happiness

Thank you for those that reviewed, favorited, alerted, smiled at my previous story. I intended for that to be a one-shot, actually. But you guys changed my mind. As well as a clip of Shizuo throwing a van at Izaya. And ice cold coffee. I know a lost cause when I see one.

So enjoy! I don't own DRRR!

-LiahFaile

* * *

><p>Erika had the imagination. Walker made it dangerous.<p>

Ten days later, the Blue Squares called them up again. Both of them. For one man. Apparently ordinary interrogation had not worked. In fact it had failed. Spectacularly.

"Hey, hey, you gotta tell me what you did." Erika was leaning against the table where the man was cuffed to a chair, speaking to him when Walker arrived. Walker looked around, feeling cramped in this small white box of a room. There was only one table, one chair, two chains, three overhead lights, and utterly nothing else. Erika rapped on the table to get the man's attention, unsuccessfully. "That guy who went before us was a previous policeman interrogator, you know? How did you turn him into that sobbing, beat up wreck? He looked pretty bad, if I may say so myself."

Walker closed the door and greeted Erika with a grin. Smiling came more naturally to him after he met her, now. And his work was a lot more fun, too. "I brought you the things that you wanted, Erika. Do you mind if I put them here?"

To his credit, the man showed no fear. His eyes were contemptuous, as if he were the interrogator and they were the subjects. Large muscles rippled out from his loose white shirt, tattooed with pheonixes and tornadoes and wings. Walker waved to him politely as he set down the box of things he had bought in the nearby store. "How do you do, criminal-san?"

"You're just a bunch of kids," his voice came out in a guttural snort. "What do you think you can do against me?"

"Walker~!" Erika cheered, digging through the box with glee. She pulled out a black jar and held it up to the light, inspecting it with obvious pride. "You did find it after all!"

Leaning down to inspect their subject a little closer, Walker tapped his cheek with a finger, considering. "Don't you think he would be able to just chew them up and spit them all out if we just let him move his mouth?"

Erika pulled out a roll of duct tape, eyes going wide. "You even thought of that! As expected, you would predict he would do something like that."

"Oy! Don't ignore me!" The man pulled against his handcuffs so hard that the arms of the chair nearly came off. "I beat up that corrupt policeman out there with _just my forehead_, so aren't you two being a little too carefree? This isn't a place where good children are!"

"Let me tell you something, criminal-san." Walker decided that the best way to approach this was to explain everything so that the man would cooperate. "You see, Erika and I have always doubted that the anime producers of Kiba did the Rejection scene right."

Erika unscrewed the jar and checked inside, poking around with her finger and nodding as she listened. "Walker, hand me the sugar please."

"What are you two blabbering about?" For the first time, the man eyed the jar warily. Sugar? What did sugar have to do with any of this?

Walker sighed, wondering if he could explain it correctly. "You see, when another person swallows a key spirit that doesn't belong to them, they go through a process called Rejection. There are several symptoms, but they all vary according to what kind of key spirit it is."

Erika continued to nod, measuring out very specific quantities of sugar and dropping them on top of the table.

"So in this one scene, some idiot tries to swallow Amil Gaoul. THE Amil Gaoul, and he just starts creating some random choking sounds."

"And that," Erika insisted, screwing down the lid to the sugar jar, "is DEFINITELY not what being eaten alive by termites sounds like."

The dawning horror of it all made the man nearly scream, but he realized that he couldn't move his mouth at all. As Walker was speaking, he had been circling around the chair, wrapping duct tape all around his face. Now immovable, his chin rested on the table, at the end of the sugar trail, and so he was in the perfect position to see what was _really_ in the black jar as Erika tipped it over.

Termites. Many of them. Squirming and wriggling and writhing over each other in their hurry to get out. They were white like maggots, but bigger, about the size of a fingernail, each of them.

"Say aaaah~" Erika beamed sweetly and fed him the last bit of the sugar in her spoon. It tasted like gravel and metal.

The man tried to scramble back desperately, but all he could do was shake his head with a wild look in his eyes. His chin jerked wildly and a scream of terror erupted from him before he knew it. "Nooooo! Nooooo!"

The termites crawled slowly out of the jar, uncertainly, hesitatingly. They were not sure what they were supposed to do, having been taken from their ordinary schedule of daily activities so abruptly three days ago. Either a pair of pincers, two fingers, a spoon, or a pair of chopsticks had suddenly intruded into each and every one of their lives. Some were grabbed around the middle, fairly and squarely in the roundest part of their midsection, plucked neatly into another dimension – the air. Others were messily grabbed by their legs, antennas, backsides, or frontsides, tossed into the jar without ceremony. Carelessly, their lives were treated as tools. As easily as this, Walker and Erika gave fifty or so termites a stress disorder that would never go away for the rest of their memory.

But then the smell of sugar flooded their senses, and their instincts took over. Their memory of the crowded and cramped jar faded after a few seconds, and they were ordinary termites again. Three days were only so much, after all. Time to find food, and nest, and do what termites do once more.

.

.

.

"Good job, guys."

Erika shrugged, leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't as interesting as I thought it would be."

The person she spoke to, supposedly one of the higher-ups in the Blue Squares, found no answer. Eyebrow twitching, he handed over a wad of bills. "Yes…I'm quite sure that man will never…er…resist again."

"Let's go, Erika~!" Walker came up, calling her from the hallway. Erika bowed politely to her client, and then took off.

He was waiting for her to catch up, a cat grin on his face. "You want to find more termites today? There's a place on top of a skyscraper that looks like a scene in Elfen Lied."

She caught up to him, and then fell into a walk. "I'm done with termites, they're boring. Next time let's give them a choice. They should be involved in this too, you know."

Walker shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugged. "Or we could just douse them with gasoline and hold a match to their face."

"Again?" She nudged him playfully, and he stepped on her foot. Erika burst into a run, calling out over her shoulder: "Whoever gets to the dojinshi shop first makes the next call!"

_Strange._ Walker thought as he broke into a frantic run, catching the door that she slammed open and leaping out into the summer Ikebukero sidewalk. _Why is it that I feel like we've been doing this forever?_

* * *

><p>Now here's a question for you all. It's been on my mind since the beginning of this fic. Was there anyone in that van that Shizuo threw at Izaya? I hope not. But I think there was. But we can't be sure.<p>

Anyway.

I guess this is too long to be called a drabble now. Dang.

Anyway, what kind of torture should they do next? Gasoline's been used too often, and termites are...well...in an unmentionable state. Or should they take a break in the park?

Click the little button thingy below ;) you know you want to. It's soooo tempting...so click!


	3. The Van Gang

I'm _back_, y'all!

Just finished watching Baccano!, which is supposedly in the same universe as Durarara! I'm SO HAPPY to hear that Isaac and Miria were members of Dollars! Cross-overs FTW.

Aaaanyways, *fiddles, I'm really sorry for not updating for so long despite all of your beautiful encouragements. I had a scary Junior year *shudders

But I know that's no excuse. To make up for that, the next updates will be fast, fast, _fast! _So please give me _any _comments you have!

* * *

><p>The Blue Squares, Walker and Erika believed, could honestly be a little too demanding at times.<p>

"We need a car, honestly." Walker put his hands behind his head as he looked up into the starry Ikebukero night sky. "I'm getting tired of having to walk there every time we have a meeting."

Erika walked next to him, silently munching on a sweet bun she had bought from a street vendor several blocks back. She said something muffled, which sounded like: "Know how to steal one?"

Walker paused and considered it for a moment. "I think I'll give it a try."

So in the end, even though they were almost at the meeting place, they both skipped the meeting entirely. They snuck into the parking lot beside the old abandoned factory, casting their eyes about for any possible target. Within seconds, they both found it. It was a pretty big van, white, with the kind of squarish build perfect for abducting hostages in the back or fitting several people comfortably. Erika peered into the window briefly, and didn't see much.

"Alright!" Walker rubbed his hands with glee. "Knife, please."

Erika tossed him a small pocket knife, and Walker immediately set about poking at the lock with it. There were a few metallic clinks, unusually loud in the dark parking lot. Erika crouched down beside him, pulling down the backpack that she always wore. The backpack had almost anything they would ever need.

With a sharp click, the outer portion of the lock came out.

"Screwdriver."

She handed him a screwdriver.

"Nail clipper, sewing needle, tweezers, gosh that's a lot of liquid."

"Did you break anything? You can't steal a car that's broken."

"No, I think…yeah, it's oil. It's leaking oil. _Ooooh_, that's interesting. Do you have any lighters? I think the new lighting gun that we bought should -"

Erika smacked him on the head. "We're stealing a car, not setting it on fire."

Sighing disappointedly, Walker turned back to the task at hand. "Matches?"

"Fresh outta matches."

.

There was a rather sudden clank, and then the car door began to move. Erika leapt up, cheering. "You did it, Walker!"

Walker held the glue-gun and the needle stiffly in his hands, wearing the most unusual look of guilt. "I don't think that was me," he answered.

They both took a step back from the car just as Kadota Kyohei stepped out of the passenger seat.

You see, the entire time that Walker and Erika had been fiddling with the keyhole and the mirrors and god knows what else, they had forgotten an essential part of the process. When stealing, the first things that thieves should do is check to see if anyone is near. But Walker and Erika were not thieves. They were otaku, for heavens sake!

"EEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHH?"

They both jumped backward, defensively holding a mosquito swatter and a lighter in front of them. Kadota glanced at them, looked confused, and then grinned widely.

"Aah! You two! I was just going to ask for some backup from the Blue Squares!"

Walker and Erika looked at each other, and then at the incriminating evidence in front of them and spread out all over the pavement. A good sized portion of the white van was pretty terribly soaked in gasoline, and bits of metal junk were scattered everywhere. Kadota stepped over the entire mess and put his hands on both of their shoulders, completely oblivious.

"We have a situation here, the guy inside the van won't talk no matter what."

Walker and Erika now looked at Kadota with blank expressions, unsure of how to react. But at this, Walker lowered his lighter gun and Erika followed suit.

Kadota kept on talking, making himself clear. His voice was calm but urgent, conveying a sense of confident power. "This guy turned rogue about a year ago; he's the one that's been committing the big crime scams that have been giving the Blue Squares such a bad rap lately. Of course he's not the only one, but Togusa and I have reason to believe he was a leader. So it seems we can get quite a bit of information out of him, but ..."

This sounded...just like...

The otaku pair looked at each other with shining eyes. An opportunity!

"Is this an order?" Erika asked coyly, grinning with her hands behind her back, even as several thin needles appeared in between her fingers.

Kadota nodded firmly.

This situation. It _demanded _the reenactment of the obscure Sword Art Online scene where Kirito deals with the Laughing Coffin guild. Walker saluted, straight-faced, and then hopped right into the van.

There was a man around twenty-five, but could possibly be more than thirty. He had a slightly round head and was neatly bound and gagged against the back of the van. He glared at them with hatred in his eyes. Walker scooted over so that Erika could come in as well. Now in the van there was only the three of them.

Kadota looked at them briefly, "Can I leave it to you? I need to tell something to the leader."

"Sure sure!" Erika and Walker both waved him on, "We'll give you all the names by the time you get back."

There was an arrogant scoff from behind the muffled gag, but neither of the otaku pair paid attention to the man. Instead, Erika pulled out her backpack again and began to rifle through the contents.

Walker stopped her. Something had just occurred to him.

Erika, due to her more social nature, knew more people than Walker did. Still, that did not appease Walker's indignation at having to be told that he had just vandalized a senior Blue Square member's car.

"You mean you _knew?_"

Shrugging, Erika handed him a persimmon seed and crunched on her own before mumbling "I'm surprised that you didn't recognize it either. It's the one you were sitting on the day we met."

Walker stared at her with a slight frown, remembering warm Ikebukero nights and the sound of screams. Then he remembered, and his face drained of color. "_Oh. _That Togusa. He yelled at me for sitting on his car before."

"This person called Izaya Orihara, he tried to recruit me and my friends for dollars and told me to pass the message to a person in Blue Squares called Dotachin. Apparently they went to the same school together, and they were classmates. And Dotachin is really, really strong."

"Really now?" Walker plopped down on the seat of the van. They were both completely ignoring the man tied in the back now, engrossed in their gossip. He made an angry kicking motion, violently jolting the van and almost breaking free of his restraints.

More importantly…"What kind of strong? Natsu strong? Naruto strong? Light strong? Lelouch strong? Luffy strong?"

Erika paused for a moment, before answering: "He's gotta be a silent strong type. And for some reason he's not the main-character type. Maybe Mystogan strong, without the magic. No. Kakashi type."

"He has a bandana, so maybe he's like Zoro? Zoro when he's serious. _Hey! _It could be the monster trio all over again! Shizuo is Luffy since they're both ridiculously strong, Dotachin is Zoro with the bandana, and Izaya is _definitely _as creepy as Sanji is."

Walker got so animated that he stood up and did an excited little hop around the little space afforded by the van, and then turned to see Erika's reaction. She had her persimmon seed halfway to her mouth, considering this very seriously.

"There's so many things wrong with that. First, Sanji smokes and Izaya doesn't smoke, so X there. Shizuo does not laugh like Luffy, so X there. Dotachin….Dotachin is…"

"You don't know?"

Erika's face fell with disappointment. "I dooon't~" She wailed in despair. "No way, no way! He's not that scary! The few times I've met him, he's just the quiet confident type. And he's always with Togusa and has a lot of followers."

"So…the Kisuke Urahara type?"

"No, no! Not him at all! I can't describe him!"

They stared huffily at each other, offended by this mystery named Kadota. In the next instant, they had their arms hooked together, proclaiming loudly - "Until we find out how strong Kadota is, we're not leaving!"

Which left the issue of...

Walker and Erika now turned to stare coldly at the man in the back. He was a seasoned criminal, with the nerves of steel needed to perform large scams and cons. But at their gaze, cool and steady and alien, even this man felt the distinct chill of fear go down his back.

"Did you ever see those scenes where, say, fire goes out of control and some bystander gets completely incinerated in a huge _whoosh _and _bang_!"

The guy's face contorted. Walker advanced, holding the lighting gun carelessly in his fingers.

"Well, we did some looking up. Do you know how many times it's happened? Gosh, everywhere. Aphorism, Code Breaker, and so on."

Erika edged closer with a maniacal grin too, eagerly crouching near the man's head. "It takes 44 degrees Celcius you know! To burn skin."

Walker checked the label on his lighter gun. "It says…do not burn for more than thirty seconds…highly compact flammable substances inside."

"Sounds perfect! You think we can get through his neck in thirty seconds?"

"Never know until you try." Walker expertly clicked the lighter so that a tongue of blue flame came out of the black tip. It sizzled right into the man's neck.

The man screamed loudly, thrashing about like a madman.

"Bones burn at higher or lower temperatures?" Walker asked Erika.

"Dunno."

"WAIT! WAAAAAIT!"

In moments, the man's blood was spattering the entire inside of the van. Veins, apparently, burned very easily, and popped when they were severed with fire. Blood spattered both of their faces.

"STOOOOOOOP! STOOOOOOOOOOP! I'LL TEEEEELLLLLL!"

Erika whipped out a list, "Make it quick, please."

The man wheezed out a list of names and the crimes he committed, and Erika copied them all down on paper with a slightly bored expression. Beside her, Walker kept on clicking the gun lighter, looking like he wanted to use it. The flame sizzled in and out of existence. Even when they heard things like murder, forgery, illegal drug trading, rape, they did not flinch. This man was simply a middle-class boss with no importance to their daily lives.

"Done?" Erika asked finally.

Walker perked up, interested. "Done that fast?"

Erika peered carefully into the man's face. "There is one thing he hasn't told us."

"What?"

The man's eyes grew large. And then, impossibly, even larger.

"The name of his organization."

At this, the man completely lost it. "I'll NEVER TELL YOU, you BASTARDS!" A string of filthy words rang out from his mouth, and spittle flew. Walker lit up the lighter again, and at Erika's 'go ahead' went straight back in with a grin on his face.

The inside layers of the skin weren't as dry, so they took longer to burn. When they finally saw the white bone beneath, both of them cheered.

In the next moment, however, the door to the van flew open and Kadota stared down at them disapprovingly.

"That's enough. We got the name of the organization he's in. The names..."

Erika handed him a piece of paper. Kadota fell silent, and then, filled with curiosity, dared to look at the two's handiwork for the first time.

When he saw the inside of the van, he groaned. "Togusa's going to kill you guys for this."

"Well then," Walker ribbed Erika. "We'll just have to get to know him reaaally well."


End file.
